wine

by

like looking for an honest politician..

like looking for an honest politician

the brown bag prophet
said
as he
entered
a local tavern
i’m
gonna find
myself
a new lover
someone
who’ll
ignore
these wrinkles
and
gray hairs
in the sink
someone
to pour my wine
and
not whine
’bout
what
i forgot
to do
today
or
yesterday
as
the case
may be
yes
someone
to warm
my bed
and not
bother
my head
willing to rub
these old bones
without
a requirement
of passion
saying
i’ll love you
always
guess
i’ll be
sleeping alone
again
tonight

by

with the lights turned down low….

lights low

groping hands
hers
idolizing
his
fantasizing
her young body
next to his
time-worn flesh
she
claims him
to be
her
boyfriend
an unintended
epoch oxymoron
surprisingly
issued
to
another
admiring
former student
whose ingestion
of wine
has no doubt
damaged her
occipital lobe
in
a similar
fashion

by

let’s have some wine…

copyright cwmartin 2012

t

here
is
no
obvious reason
to get
involved
because of
the death of
a handful of children
your
concerns
should be
for the  larger picture
children die
everyday
so their deaths
at the hands of
corporate greed
should not
interfere with your
happy hour
and
hors d’oeuvres
these
things
take time
sit back
and
have
another glass
of wine
you’ll feel
fine
not like
the end
of
their
time

by

valentine’s day reprise…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2012

some guy
in an office
somewhere
has decided
to ruin my day
emphasizing
my loneliness
no valentine
for me
so
i’m
an outcast
a societal
hunchback
of notre dame
but
i’m not
going to cry
in my beer
i’m pouring
a glass of wine
lighting a fire
in the fireplace
and burning
all those old
valentine cards
you gave me
they’ll give off
a lot more
warmth
than you
ever did

by

a common affliction…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2011

i guess
i’m like
everyone else
this time of year
reviewing
analyzing
and
bemoaning
aspects
of my life
an array of
year-end thoughts
guess
aunt bea
picked up
on that
she said
it’s so easy
to compare
your life
to others
sipping
that bitter wine
of yesterday’s dreams
wondering
why
certain things
happened
trying
to give
divine meaning
to
random events
thinking
that logic
should’ve
solved
your problems
but
honey
it’s an illogical world
and
those
you envy
are just
parking lot attendants
driving
someone else’s
car

by

an uncomfortable waiting period…

composite image cwmartin

when pain
is deep
into the bones
there is no
other thought
than death
the joy of
bright-eyed children
and
shared sympathies
are as empty
as the promises
made over
cheap wine
and
menthol cigarettes
in a conference bar
far from home
and family
where vacant blue eyes
attempt to refocus
on the conversation
and the reason
for it in the first place
just as you try now
to refocus on life
but the pain
the pain
stops each refrain
of the song
of life